Free The American Chronicle 1 - Burr by Gore Vidal

sensibly took a carriage.
    On September 16, eleven hundred of us—mostly Virginians and Kentuckians with one company of New Yorkers (demanding, as usual, their pay in advance) were drawn up at attention to be reviewed by our commander, Colonel Benedict Arnold, the first hero of the Revolution.
    I have a vivid recollection of Arnold that day, standing tall and bulky against a bright sky. Hair black as ink; face a curious deep olive colour, as though stained with walnut juice; eyes marvellously strange like those of an animal or some predatory bird, pale as ice, unblinking: the Indians called him Black Eagle. Restless, brave, entirely lacking in judgement except on the battle-field, he was a fascinating figure, given to quarrels.
    Arnold spoke to us briefly. Then he presented the various officers. Among them was Dan Morgan of Virginia, a famed Indian-killer in fringed jacket; nearly forty years of age, Morgan was the oldest of the officers. Arnold himself was about thirty-four. Although he had authority, he did not inspire awe the way Washington did. Arnold was more like the best athlete among boys; the one who holds most easily the centre of the stage. In fact, none of our officers looked particularly military except for Lieutenant-Colonel Roger Enos, who was to lose us Canada.
    Until May 1775, Benedict Arnold had been an apothecary in New Haven. After news came of the fighting at Lexington, he shut up shop, raised a company of soldiers and put himself at the disposal of the commonwealth of Massachusetts. From the beginning it was his strategy to take Fort Ticonderoga from the British in order to open the way into Canada. He did take Fort Ticonderoga but was forced to share the glory with Ethan Allen (a contentious figure whose eventual capture by the British was a relief to the American command). Allen and Arnold promptly fell out with one another. Worse, the Massachusetts Assembly declared that they had no interest in Canada; apparently the only reason for capturing Fort Ticonderoga was to acquire much-needed artillery. Declaring himself ill-used and betrayed, Arnold resigned his commission at Watertown in August. Washington promptly commissioned him a colonel and then, “His Excellency did me the honour of accepting my strategy for the conquest of Canada.”
    In the church at Newburyport, Arnold addressed his officers from the pulpit. “I do not think we have lost too much by waiting. I had wanted to go straight on to Canada after I took Ticonderoga.” Matt Ogden and I exchanged glances. It was our first experience with a military hero. Apparently, quite alone, the military hero reduces cities and makes history. “But that proved not to be possible.” Arnold had sufficient sense not to denounce to his officers the magnates of Massachusetts who had stopped him.
    A staff captain produced a map of Canada and tacked it onto the pulpit. We leaned forward in our hard pews while Arnold explained to us the route. The next day, we would board eleven transports and proceed to Gardinierstown at the mouth of the Kennebec River. There we would find 224 bateaux.
    “In these flat-bottomed boats we shall make our way up the Kennebec River.” A thick finger traced the route on the map. “At the head-water we cross over land some twelve miles to the Dead River. Meanwhile another force under General Schuyler will be moving from Fort Ticonderoga to Fort St. John to Montreal. Once Montreal is ours, General Schuyler will join us at Quebec. My best intelligence assures me that in all of Canada there are only seven hundred British troops, and no fleet. I shall begin the siege of Quebec no later than October fifteenth.”
    I record this speech from memory in order to give an idea of the vaingloriousness of certain of our commanders in the early days of the fighting. Yet I must say Arnold was able to convince us that before the first snow fell we would be the liberators of Canada. How could we fail? The Canadians themselves were with us. The